Xue Ling should rightly leave it be. But: Sui da-ge had brought the magistrate here so he wouldn't be hurt, and he seems prone to injuring himself more than anything.

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Notes


Imported from Archive of Our Own. Original work id: 49545193.



It bodes to be a quiet night.

The magistrate from Shuntian stops his hollering once Sui da-ge can't be seen through his bars, and the other prisoners are for the most part docile under Jia Kui's presence and the exerting whelm of its command. Wan Tong has been scarce of late, to all of their benefit, and if the Western Depot means to make trouble for them, it will not be too soon. So, Sui da-ge leaves for home if not rest, and the guard watch remains in Xue Ling's care.

Once he is certainly alone, Xue Ling fumbles a hand beneath his uniform, fishing out the package that has for hours been crinkling unsubtly against his belly. It had seemed a waste to leave with hands empty after spending so much of the day trailing Tang Fan's path through the practical glut of the food vendors in the city. Jiandui are best when still warm, but worst when not eaten at all. Xue Ling pops one whole into his mouth, feeling it tack sticky-thick between his teeth at the first chew, bean paste smudging over his tongue.

So occupied with trying to suck the jiandui back loose without resorting to picking it free with his fingers, Xue Ling does not notice Tang Fan for his first dawdling pass-by down the halls. But the magistrate finds no such luck on his returning lap — his stillness in his cell gives him away.

"Are you trying to escape?" Xue Ling asks, muffled.

Tang Fan jumps in place, shoulders jolting up to his ears. "What," he sputters out, spinning around. "Of course not. Who could escape from the Northern Administrative Court?" His eyes dart to and fro, at that, lending little credence to his claim.

"Okay," says Xue Ling, swallowing. He makes a half-step to leave, more adjusting his weight than feinting, but Tang Fan doesn't wait for the footfall to land before he's turning back to resume— whatever it may be that he's attempting to do. If not escaping, then something almost as fruitless.

Xue Ling should rightly leave it be. But: Sui da-ge had brought the magistrate here so he wouldn't be hurt, and he seems prone to injuring himself more than anything. So he stays where he is, trying to peer past Tang Fan and at what so interests him about the wall. Tang Fan does not notice, but people don't tend to notice Xue Ling. Sui da-ge has said this is a good trait in a jinyiwei, and while Xue Ling can't see it, Sui da-ge is not one to pay a deceitful compliment for any kindness' sake.

Tang Fan seems to be trying to scratch something into the stone. So Xue Ling goes to find him some chalk, and has not quite yet had the thought to instead dissuade him occur by the time he returns. "Here," he says, offering it out through the bars.

Tang Fan doesn't startle this time, gliding over at a clip that makes Xue Ling feel rushed. A quick hand snaps out from beneath his sleeve, and then the nub of chalk is snapped up between his thumb and forefinger as his other hand presses over his mouth. It is here Xue Ling realises he's been robbed.

"Hey," he says helplessly.

"Thank you," Tang Fan replies, chewing away, as if his ingratitude is what Xue Ling is taking umbrage with. "Good man."

Well, at least this wasn't a heist for his cell's keys. Xue Ling can forgive it on this merit. Rise above the loss. He shoves the two remaining jiandui in his mouth before the magistrate circles back for second pickings. Just in case. Then he promptly makes himself scarce again, lest he become aware enough of the outlet of Tang Fan's artistry to have to intervene.